I never get stung. Ever. In fact I had told my daughter Sara, that I never get stung. Not sweet enough I said.
Well. All. That. Changed. Today.
I was talking on the phone with my oldest daughter, Niki and we were laughing at people who were doing the ice bucket challenge for charity.
Let me clarify.
Not laughing at the cause but at a blooper video of people attempting to do the challenge and getting conked on the head or falling down, or, in the case of one young woman, losing her bikini top after the downpour. Someone had posted the video on Facebook and Niki and I were laughing about it. Really laughing hard!
Because I some times pride myself at being a multitasker, I was also outside adjusting the lawn sprinkler when I happened to look down at my foot. I was wearing sandals and saw a bee had landed on my sandal and was crawling under the strap. Since I don’t get stung, ever, I moved my foot from the sandal trying to prompt the bee to fly away. It didn’t.
And then it happened. I got stung! On my middle toe!
It really, really hurt!
So I screamed. While on the phone. Out loud. Very loud.
My one year old grandson Bodhi screeches when he wants something. Screeches like a baby dragon.
Bodhi’s screech has got nothing on me.
Incredibly, Niki kept laughing at the video. So I did too.
I know Niki. She’s been with me the longest and I know I’m like a superhero to her.
A big, strong, tough father figure of a guy who actually is all that.
I was sure she kept laughing at the video because she couldn’t imagine me crying like a baby.
Her image of me just got shattered to pieces.
What could I say? For awhile, nothing.
Then it started getting a bit uncomfortable for me on the phone.
Was I suffering the effects of a giant cicada size bee sting? My middle toe now rivaled my thumb in size.
Was I starting to feel dizzy? I don’t know.
My forehead was starting to get wet – feverish sweating or I strayed to far under the lawn sprinkler.
I couldn’t tell.
Finally I could stand no more. “Uh, Niki,” I said, “I screamed out loud a few minutes ago and I want to tell you why.” Tears were welling up in my eyes. I had to tell her.
“What Dad? You did what?”
Oh no she was in denial. I had crushed her!
I came clean. “I got stung by a bee 15 minutes ago and I “yelled” out loud.” (because “yelled” is more manly sounding than “screamed”)
“Really? Are you OK? I didn’t hear a thing.”
“You didn’t? Oh Yeah, I’m OK. It was just one of those little bees.”
I got the stinger out all by myself too, after Niki told me how.
Yep, a Tough guy once again. A tough guy now with 3 thumbs.
But oh what a relief!
Super Dad, my daughter’s hero, is still alive and well!
My ego, or is it super ego, still intact!
(Unless of course, she was acting in her role as Super Daughter, protecting me…again.)
Click the 2, yes 2, video links below.
Now if you don’t think bee stings are painful, your wrong. I now know. Here’s a video of a sting on a young man’s foot. While he was stung on the bottom of his foot, I was stung on my toe. The only similarity is the level of screaming…
Here’s to you Niki!
The way you look tonight by Frank – remember the dance!